After the fight with brutal cave hyenas that had attacked Secora and Gideon in the remote, rugged mountains of Armenia; the age-old thunderbird, Wakinyan Tanka, rose aloft with a second bird that flashed white chest feathers.
Together, they landed on the ridgetop thirty yards above the humans...
By Diane Olsen Author.
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Ignoring the lightning and thunder crashing around them, Gideon and Secora clambered over the ragged incline to be near the old bird. When they arrived at the divot between two rocky outcrops, they found the ancient one huddled with one wing partially outstretched for balance, the other folded beneath her. Weak and broken, her beak sagged open.
Their guide, Kheridan, tentatively approached and squatted near Secora, but Seamus, who disliked birds, called out from below, “I’m good here.”
The second bird perched on a higher boulder, anxiously raising her magnificent crest of red, black, and white quills; and alternating her weight from foot to foot. Twisting her head in various positions, she observed the humans with those piercing eyes. Besides the blaze of white feathers on her chest, she had white speckles on her wings.
Even though her body, not counting the enormous tail, was over six feet long, Wakinyan looked weak and broken.
Lightening cracked the sky open and rain blew in sheets soaking everything.
Wakinyan Tanka’s head drooped, beak resting on the ground and breathing through her mouth.
Secora gave into her tears but heard a sound behind her. As she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed that despite his fear, Seamus had joined them. A thought came to Gideon, oddly Secora felt it too. He said to the others, “The old one’s day of quiet is here. She wants us to bond with this daughter.”
One last time Wakinyan Tanka raised her glorious crest and turned her red-gold eye seated in blue-tinted skin toward Gideon and Secora. As she lifted her grizzly bear-sized head, they noticed blood oozing from her leg and chest feathers. Without speaking, they removed their coats and spread them over the old bird, hoping to give her the feeling of being a protected nestling. The two other men followed suit, then shivered beside the noble creature, in awe of the event.
It wasn’t long before the downpour moved off to the south and the imminent threat of lightning passed. So too, had Wakinyan Tanka. Gideon, his head pressed on top of his mentor’s crest, was sobbing openly. Seamus captured some of the epic situations on video.
Suddenly, they felt Kheridan hands on their shoulders. “Let’s think about this another time. We are a long way from safety, and I’m sure those giant cave hyenas weren’t the only dangers in this area.”
The young bird that would from now on be referred to as, “White Feather,” spread her wings and rose quietly, circling the currents until she was barely visible, and following the pattern of her mother, two piercing shrieks signaled her departure.
The storm moved on, and the petrichor fragrance of the grateful earth was redolent and calming. . .
If you enjoyed this short story, I invite you to read “the rest of the story” in my novel series, “Rising Wind,” Book Four: “Like Feathers to a Wing.” This book is filled with action, adventure, and mystery, celebrating Native American culture while exploring diverse cultures worldwide. It would make a fantastic holiday gift for the avid readers on your Christmas list and may be purchased from Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B01LWDB4K7/allbooks
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Happy Holiday Reading!
Diane Olsen Award Winning Author 